


Morning Glow

by LingeringLilies



Series: Soft Sin [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Messy Bottom Lexa, Morning Sex, PWP, Praise Kink, Sleepy Sex, front spoon lexa, mild dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LingeringLilies/pseuds/LingeringLilies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for this anonymous prompt: Front spoon Lexa waking up with Clarke's arms around her. Clarke starts to move her hand under her shirt. Clarke can immediately feel Lexa's heart is beating much faster and Clarke just loves how much Lexa is excited by her touch. She then tells Lexa to hold still and close her eyes. Clarke proceeds to let her hands wander down Lexa's body while she whispers in Lexa's ear the entire time. Basically Lexa has a really good morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Glow

**Author's Note:**

> Most of my oneshots fit into a loose canon-divergent universe I've imagined for the girls, though the stories can stand on their own. Check out my Tumblr for more Clexa fangirling (lingeringlilies) and feel free to send me prompts.

Lexa isn't surprised to wake in Clarke's arms anymore. After a few months, she's finally free from the confusion of thinking she's still asleep every time it happens. Clarke is almost too warm, her breasts pressing into Lexa’s back through their nightclothes.

She can feel the slow rise and fall of Clarke's breath against her. It's the most soothing rhythm in Lexa's life, more steadying than the tides or the cycles of the moon. It has the opposite effect of war drums or the pounding of feet; she finds peace in the subtle rise and fall of Clarke’s body in sleep. Lexa wonders how gentle rhythms were unknown to her for so long.

Sometimes she wonders if her heart truly beat before she met Clarke.

Lexa lays still, not minding the stick of her shirt against her back or the weight of Clarke's arm over her waist. It's a grounding weight. She doesn’t open her eyes yet, not prepared for the harshness of even the soft early morning light. She loves the dark warmth of their bed.

Clarke's heat and the quiet stillness of morning are enough to lull her back toward dreams. She burrows deeper into her pillow and tries to return to sleep.

The motion seems to trigger a ripple in Clarke, who presses into Lexa further, crooking her legs such that Lexa's are pushed forward where she lies on her side. She smiles, loving how Clarke always tries to be closer in sleep no matter how close they are. When she's awake, Clarke can play cool, but when her inhibitions are snatched from her with her consciousness, she melts into Lexa. It's how Lexa knows Clarke loves her just as much as she loves Clarke.

She stays still, hoping she hasn't woken Clarke, hoping for a few more minutes of peace before she has to rise and begin her day. But Clarke's arm tightens and her hand swims over the sheet, coming to rest flat on Lexa's abdomen.

Clarke’s touch still sends butterflies through Lexa.

Clarke presses her head forward to place a kiss on the back of Lexa's neck, covered by her hair. Lexa still feels the pressure though. She lifts her hand to press over Clarke's where it rests on her abdomen.

"Morning," Lexa croaks.

"Mmm," Clarke responds.

They lay in the quiet for a moment before Clarke's hand starts to drift over Lexa's belly. It's such a gentle, soothing touch, Lexa drops her hand from it, letting Clarke pet her. She feels centered and calm, as though she were deep in meditation.

Then Clarke's hand drifts to the hem of her shirt, fingers pushing it up, dragging delicately over her skin which is suddenly sensitive and tight. Lexa doesn't know if Clarke meant to change her touch so dramatically, but Lexa feels herself ripple and flare. She’s alert now, and she opens her eyes to see the morning light painting everything around her pale and gray. She feels a tingle between her legs as her heart begins to speed up.

Clarke probably didn't mean to excite her. She's half asleep, still dazed and sloppy as she breathes slow and steady against Lexa's neck. The hairs there prick up too, and Lexa wonders why she's so sensitive to such casual touch.

Clarke's fingers drag over her belly, drawing shapeless patterns. Lexa feels a tingle zip through her from Clarke's fingers to the space between her legs. She tries to extinguish it.

But then Clarke slides her hand higher, growing more sure, until she's cupping Lexa’s breast.

Lexa’s heart beats stronger.

Clarke likes to hold Lexa like this sometimes after they’ve made love. She finds some comfort in it, and she once told Lexa it was just the most convenient place for her hand when they lay on their sides like this. Lexa had given her a bashful giggle, explaining she wouldn’t be able to sleep if Clarke kept her hand there. Clarke had pouted but settled for resting her hand on Lexa’s stomach.

Clarke seems to have forgotten how sensitive Lexa is though. Lexa swallows and tries to ignore the ache building between her legs. It’s nothing she can’t shake with some water on her face.

But then Clarke shifts her hand and her fingers begin tracing circles around Lexa's nipple.

Lexa shivers, breath forced out at the unexpected touch. She wasn't expecting Clarke to do that. She feels her heartbeat strengthen.

"Clarke?"

"Mm?"

Clarke draws another circle and Lexa tries to steady her breath.

"Are you awake?"

Clarke nuzzles the back of Lexa's neck, burrowing through the hair to meet her skin. She kisses and hums what Lexa thinks is a _Yes_.

Then Clarke gives Lexa's nipple the gentlest pinch. Lexa's shoulders contract and she feels a direct current spark toward her center, igniting a need a little water on her face won’t put out. She feels Clarke's lips curl in a smile against her neck.

Lexa swallows. "I have to get u-"

"Shhh..." Clarke hushes.

Lexa feels the air of the hush on her skin, further tightening it.  Her eyelids flutter as Clarke's fingers grow bolder.

“Clarke, if you-”

“ _Sh_ ,” Clarke hushes again, sterner this time. “Just feel.”

Lexa swallows again and fixes her gaze on the wall, trying to focus on something that will prevent her from ratcheting up too quickly and giving Clarke the satisfaction of setting off her hair-trigger release first thing upon waking.

It seems that’s Clarke’s intent though, as she slips her other arm under Lexa’s neck, sliding her hand through the collar of Lexa’s shirt to cup her other breast.

Lexa tries to _just feel_ , but her mind is so intent on steering her where she thinks she should go, it takes effort.

What is she supposed to feel? Clarke’s hands? The way shivers of delight ripple through her? The growing ache between her legs? Or is she supposed to feel less concrete things, like the smallness of being tucked into the nook of Clarke’s hips, the peacefulness of the morning, or her ever-growing love for Clarke?

Above all, she feels disbelief and joy that she is able to feel any of those things at all.

Lexa shivers as Clarke’s upper hand slips down over her stomach again, fingers dipping into her bellybutton before sliding under the drawstring of her pants.

Lexa surges. Being intimate in the light of early morning is still new and strange, particularly when she can’t see Clarke’s face.

She turns her head, wondering if Clarke is any more awake that she was a moment ago. She cranes her neck, twisting such that Clarke’s fingers lose their pattern.

“Still,” Clarke whispers. “Just feel.”

“I want to see you,” Lexa responds. It sounds a little whiny.

“I’m here. Close your eyes.”

Though it feels strange, Lexa settles back into the sheets, exhaling as Clarke’s fingers find her nipple again. The motion is sleepy but deliberate. She closes her eyes as Clarke’s hand dips into her panties, inching closer to her center.

Clarke goes slow, her breath warm and damp on Lexa’s back. It makes Lexa shiver. Clarke’s fingers drift down agonizingly slowly, and Lexa has to concentrate on not squirming. Lexa feels her pulse throughout her body as her breathing starts to shake.

Finally, Clarke’s fingers slide through her and she can’t help but curl forward, pressing into both of Clarke’s hands. With her eyes closed, she watches faint colors seeping through her eyelids.

In her mind she only sees Clarke.

“I love that you’re so sensitive,” Clarke says, lifting her head so her lips brush against the shell of Lexa’s ear. “It makes touching you that much better.”

Lexa exhales.

“I could feel your heartbeat speed up the second I put my hand up your shirt,” Clarke whispers.

Lexa blushes, pressing her hips down into Clarke’s fingers for more friction.

“Your skin got warmer too. And I could feel goosebumps all…” She gives another gentle pinch to Lexa’s nipple, “over.”

Lexa lets out a little whine and Clarke presses her hand down further, sliding through Lexa’s center, almost dipping inside.

“You’re ready for me already.”

Lexa lets out a little whine of objection, self-conscious at her body’s betrayal of how easy she is to arouse.

“Seems like maybe you were dreaming about something naughty...”

Lexa swallows, wondering if she should try to play into Clarke’s teasing and say she was dreaming of Clarke. But Clarke has hushed her twice, and she’s trying to _just feel_.

And oh, does Clarke’s touch feel good. Their bodies pressed together, sticky with sleep, Clarke’s protective arms around her, hands touching where she’s most sensitive and needy.

If this isn’t paradise, Lexa doesn’t think it exists.

She rocks her hips gently back into Clarke in appreciation, asking for more. Clarke is generous, slipping her fingers through Lexa a little firmer, a little faster.

Lexa opens her mouth and sighs out her thanks. A small wave crests through her, and she settles into their new pace, rocking gently into Clarke.

“I love waking up next to you,” Clarke murmurs, her tone growing tender. “I love being able to touch you first thing.”

Clarke slides her fingers finally into Lexa, giving another pinch of her nipple, and Lexa bites her lips as she muffles a whimper. She sounds pitiful, but she doesn’t care, so long as Clarke doesn’t stop.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

Lexa feels her efforts to stay composed unspool. She’s not supposed to talk, which is good, because she wouldn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound silly or bashful. Instead, she takes one of her own idle hands and presses it over her shirt where Clarke is still toying with her breast, encouraging her.

“Maybe I have,” Clarke continues in her low, raspy morning voice. “But I haven’t told you today yet.”

Lexa’s breath is coming out in heavy pants now, the tension between her legs building as she tries to keep her eyes closed and her body from thrashing against Clarke.

With her eyes closed, she feels infinite, sprawling out beyond the sky Clarke fell from. Clarke’s arms keep her safe in their bed while her hands vault her higher and higher into pleasure.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Lexa.” Clarke’s own breathing is growing more effortful now. She moves against Lexa as she works her up, using her motion of her own hips to rock Lexa into her hand. Their skin sticks together where it touches.

“Not just your face,” Clarke says as she presses a sloppy, dragging kiss to the spot beside her ear. “Here too,” she said, giving Lexa’s breast a squeeze. Lexa wonders if Clarke meant her heart or her breast and decides she doesn’t care. “And here.” Clarke curls her fingers and Lexa whimpers again, hips jerking.

She’s trembling now in Clarke’s grasp, rolling through the adoration Clarke heaps on her.

It was odd at first to hear Clarke speak so gently to her. The first time it almost felt like Clarke was mocking her. But she wasn’t. It’s one of the many ways Clarke has learned to care for her. Now Lexa basks in it, wishing she could languish in Clarke’s praise forever.

“I wish I could keep you here with me all day,” Clarke says, fingers speeding up as her hold on Lexa’s breast grows firmer.

Lexa twists her face into the pillow to stifle a moan Clarke draws from her.

“I love your noises,” Clarke says, nuzzling behind Lexa’s ear. Lexa can hear the little pout in her voice. “Let me hear you.”

She curls her fingers inside Lexa and Lexa whines, high and breathy and louder than before.

She feels her release approaching, glad it won’t surprise her this time. She has a few seconds warning, then feels her body lock, curling forward as she clamps down around Clarke’s fingers.

“That’s it,” Clarke breathes, encouraging her.

After the first surge passes, Lexa’s lungs force a strangled cry out of her mouth, a feral noise that earns her a stronger pump of Clarke’s fingers.

“Perfect.”

Lexa stutters through a few more clenching waves, breath gusting and chaotic as she swims in the vastness of her own body.

Clarke stills her hands and hips, holding and hushing her. Lexa always feels a bit startled after she comes, and Clarke knows how to soothe her. Clarke presses kisses to her temple until her body droops, relaxed and happy.

Lexa feels rosy, relieved laughter bubbling up through her. It’s deep and gentle and sounds like more of a hum than anything else. The vibration echoes through Clarke too, and Lexa feels smiling lips on her temple.

“Good _morning_ ,” Clarke says.

Lexa sighs, eyes still closed as she feels her body pool in the sheets. “Can I talk now?”

“Mmm… I _guess_.”

Lexa laughs again. She opens her eyes, adjusting to the light and the brilliant color that now fills the room. It’s gold and white and shining, but nothing is more radiant than Clarke’s face.

She turns onto her back, adjusting in the sheets. Clarke props her head up on her hand. Lexa doesn’t miss the smug smile.

“Good morning to you too,” Lexa says, grinning.

Lexa leans up and Clarke leans down for a short, soft kiss.

Lexa is loose and drowsy as she lands back on the pillow. “That was a nice way to wake up.”

“I know.”

Lexa lets her cockiness slide, running her hand up Clarke’s arm, adoring her.

“Maybe I’ll start doing that every morning,” Clarke muses. “Send you off to your duties that much more relaxed.”

Lexa has never been one to joke about her work, but she manages to keep a straight face as she says, “The coalition would be better for it.”

Now it’s Clarke’s turn to chuckle, leaning down to kiss Lexa again. She makes it quick.

“If you don’t get up soon you’ll be late, _Heda_.”

Lexa ignores the comment and lifts up into Clarke, hands starting to drift over Clarke’s back, trying to roll her over.

“Babe, you don’t have time…” Clarke says, words stiff, as though it pains her to reject even a second of Lexa’s affection. She pulls away but keeps her gaze on Lexa.

Lexa feels colder without Clarke’s touch. “But don’t you need…” she trails off. She doesn't trust herself to speak as brazenly as Clarke about intimate matters.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get mine,” Clarke says with a devilish grin, settling onto her back on her side of the bed. She pulls the sheet up and tucks it under her arms.

Lexa doesn’t miss Clarke’s hand slipping down over her stomach under the sheet, resting just below her belt line.  

Clarke reaches up with her other hand to push Lexa up and out of bed. “Get dressed.”

Lexa groans as she forces herself out of bed into clothing that is rough compared to the sheets and Clarke’s hands.

It’s difficult to leave, but she knows Clarke will be here when she returns that evening. Tomorrow morning she’ll wake in Clarke’s arms again, and maybe – maybe – if she’s quick enough, she’ll get a chance to return the favor.


End file.
